


Bubblace

by SoloSoso (MantisandtheMoonDragon)



Category: Gorillaz, Powerpuff Girls
Genre: Crack and Angst, Crime Fighting, Enemies to Lovers, Experimental Style, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Drama, Multi, Older Man/Younger Woman, Phase Five (Gorillaz), Please Don't Kill Me, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rarepair, Secret Relationship, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, Sister-Sister Relationship, Timeline What Timeline, Unconventional Relationship, Villains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2019-11-03 17:18:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17881973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MantisandtheMoonDragon/pseuds/SoloSoso
Summary: Power does not beget destiny, and the future is unconventional at best. Gorillaz/Ppg crossover.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Time for more rare pair nonsense from me. All characters involved in romantic relationships are 18+. All of these drabbles are marked but also at random, so there's no distinct timeline.

(0)

It didn't start at once. Both of her sisters had had boyfriends before, and Bubbles had hardly seen the appeal. Blossom's last boyfriend Jared had followed her like a lovesick puppy for the entirety of their high school years and she'd broken his heart right before graduation.

'Attachments before college that aren't family or friends just loses its spark' is what she'd said, before he'd practically broke down at her feet and begged her to stay with fat, fat tears rolling down his face. It hadn't worked, not when Blossom naturally treated him like a subject to be checked off on her itinerary.

Buttercup seemed to have downright disliked her boyfriends, and she'd had three. Trying to picture her with any of them was simply an exercise in memory, of when she'd glare or yell or tease them too hard and see them cow to her like criminals. It was never a comfortable sight, but not even the Professor found a right time and place to advise her to soften her approach.

Being the most cheerful and chirpiest of the three, it was a wonder that Bubbles had never had the privilege. She'd had some admirers, but nothing like an official boyfriend or girlfriend to spend all her time with. Bubbles was most often alone, especially as she and her sisters got older.

* * *

(20)

"Mmmm." Ace had pulled her close, like he always did when they were in bed, and tangled their legs together. Bubbles giggled involuntarily, trying not to duck away from his ticklish sighs against her neck. "You're so soft. How'd yous get so soft?"

This wasn't the first time the young woman had ever heard him say something like that, but she still reveled in the compliment. She was soft - skin as sweet as milk and smooth like satin. Bubbles loved to compare it to the bits of almost nonexistent chest hair behind her, and the very light slopes of his tattoos. They were so different in that, different in many more ways than that, but it was one of those things that never failed to make her feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Bubbles couldn't stop giggling. "Stop that, silly! I'll get mad if you don't!"

One of his arms lay beneath her, wrapped around her shoulders where he could play with her blonde hair that had been let down at some point in the night. The other supported a rather large hand with claws for nails that stroked her front. Ace lingered along her breasts and down, getting so close to her pelvis that Bubbles felt that molten heat inside again.

She ignored it for the tightening embrace of her lover, as he nuzzled his pointy nose into her cheek and grinned. "But I'm having so much fun. You are too, ain't ya?"

She refused to indulge him until he went from playing with her nipple to tickling her side and forcing her to squirm. "Ain't ya?"

"Okay! Okay! Yes!" She mewed. Bubbles turned slightly to look at him, smile at him, and was left winded once again at the fond gleam in his eyes. It was enough to make her heart startle in her chest, to make her insides curl as though they were tickled, too.

So strange was it to see a once mortal enemy look at her with what could be love.

Ace's head tipped forward and he was kissing her. The angle was awkward and should've just been awkward but Bubbles felt him sighing against her and nothing could've been better or more romantic.

"Maybe you should get mad though," He broke away and rubbed the side of her arm. "Then you'll have no choice but to punish me, powderpuff."

"And you'd like that…?" She pivoted in bed to face him better, and Ace held his tongue between his snaggleteeth teasingly.

Ace moved with Bubbles, just to press his nose to hers. She watched as his eyes fluttered, exhaustion beginning to show in that mix of flirtatious glints and infatuated laughter.

The playful tone that he'd had a moment before broke away as he became uncharacteristically soft. "Hey, you could really punch me in the face now and I'd thank you."

Bubbles frowned gently. She stroked the side of Ace's green face and brushed away some strands of inky hair. "I wouldn't do that. I won't ever do that again."


	2. Chapter 2

(3)

She'd managed to find a back entrance into the junkyard, through a fence-like door with curly barbed wire resting on it. The rusty lock that just barely kept it a barrier to the general public was as easy to bypass. However, once Bubbles stepped into the gated area following her triumph, she halted. Her big eyes took in the piles of garbage and metal towering around a scant few cars and she shuddered. The ugly scene in front of her bordered on gruesome, and was definitely, instantly, absolutely not where she wanted to be.

* * *

(15)

Bubbles had never been one to keep secrets. In fact, she was very, very bad at it. And perhaps, it was silly but whenever she considered the fact, she felt worthless and even childish.

The feeling of forcing herself to override her very nature - to see a man she couldn't call her boyfriend out loud (or was he? They hadn't really labeled it) - was 10x as worse. Guilt tore at her heart but she floundered on how to handle one terrible feeling or the other. They'd begun to bleed together as she started overthinking.

Nonetheless, when she floated down and delicately knocked on the rouge-colored door labeled 2B, and was greeted with a goofy yet somehow still sly smile her way… it was enough to make her forget.

* * *

(3)

For whatever reason, Bubbles wasn't as nervous about the junkyard - likely laden with sharp objects that poked and scratched and carried germs of all kinds - as she was about the garage at the front.

The girl eyed the free-wheeling place of business with trepidation. She'd been taught to open her heart to all kinds of things, but she also couldn't help but skitter away from the business. It was home to broken down vehicles and perpetually frowning men of inordinate size.

Bubbles reminded herself that ordinary people with ordinary lives were often very busy. Adults, even in their town filled with monsters and hoodlums and evil oddities, were not free from the daily grind of working 9 to 5. And it was exhausting, of course. Their serious, frowning and beleaguered faces didn't make them mean or unkind, just… busy. Normal.

"… gotta have ta tell ya twice, Copular? No smokin' near the fixer-uppers!"

Bubbles squeaked involuntarily as a booming voice sifted through the grinding of gears and shuffling of heavy shoes on matted ground. She looked around, rationalization forgotten with the hostile noise, and found the source only fifty feet away.

A man, lanky and tall, was leaning against the hood of a broken Beetle, with a lit cigarette between his long fingers. All around him, chaos occurred. Fastidious employees attempting to re-fashion the car he'd chosen to slouch upon as if their lives depended on it. Heedless of the strain around him, the lone man's thin lips rose into a snarl as he glared at whoever had chewed him out, but didn't hustle to correct his mistake.

"Yeah, yeah." Smoke billowed from his nostrils. He flicked the instrument of death and bits of ash fell at his feet. "You gotta yell it to me twice, ya mean."

His drawl drew a sigh from man next to him, and it took a minute before Bubbles realized that this other man wasn't the first who'd yelled at the familiar figure before her.

"Man, just listen to him for once." Worker #2 said. "It's company policy. You're gonna get fired if you don't. We're all gonna get fired if you don't."

Ace rolled his eyes in retaliation. "Ya know, technically I'm on break. Don't that mean that work regulations and all that don' apply to me right now?"

Ace turned away from 2 and 1 before he had to hear another complaint, and at the same time made Bubbles feel like she'd been the one misbehaving all along.

Ace's mouth hung open slightly, eyes a little rounder as he took in the image of his former foe. Though he quickly righted himself after a moment's hesitation, lips already twitching as a devious glint shown in his eyes.

He began walking toward Bubbles with arms wide open, as though he were about to greet an old friend. And it felt to Bubbles as if she'd become a mouse the second he laid eyes upon her, shrinking back before cat's claws could strike at her vulnerable self.

"Well, well, well." His voice was a hint deeper than when he'd been a teenager. The detail stuck with Bubbles, even as she remained stunned and rooted to the floor. "Look who we have here."

* * *

(3)

The heroine could practically feel the entirety of Ace's coworkers sigh with relief as she and Ace left the building. She wasn't surprised, but still felt bad for the people that had to work around the criminal all day long.

She felt bad for herself, having to be within walking distance of said criminal, and in the middle of a wasteland. When he turned to Bubbles, the questioning look on his face was distorted by oozing smugness.

"I…" Bubbles began, as she eyed the rusty junk to her right. She bit her lip as her she felt a rock drop into her stomach. "Buttercup says I should look into getting a car."

Ace's head cocked to the side, eyes narrowing. "How come? Ain't you girls the last people needin' a fully-weaponized piece of machinery to bowl people over wit'?"

Bubbles blushed. "It's supposed to be a symbolic thing! A car represents freedom… I guess…"

"Aww! Ain't that sweet?" He feigned innocence, even as he bared his teeth in a grin. "It's a shame she didn't come wit' ya."

Ace made a show of leaning to one side and then the other, trying to look over her shoulders with an obnoxiously baffled expression on his face. "Not even Daddy here ta hold your hand and fret?"

Ace was grandstanding before Bubbles could protest. He bent down on one knee and clasped his hands together against his sweaty chest. "'Oh, my poor, poor lil' princess! Having ta shame herself and this family by bein' in this dump! Oh, fret! Fret! Fret!'"

Bubbles's expression veered into one of anger as he raised a hand to his forehead and sighed loudly, looking poised to faint. She kicked at the dirt at her shoes with a growl, disgusted by the obnoxiousness (and the complete mockery of her father); but she immediately hissed at the mess she made thereafter. Her favorite pair of shoes were half-covered after, their light blue coloring darkened into a muddy-looking grey.

And despite her determination to hold her head up high, Bubbles couldn't help reaching down to brush the grime away. It was her first instinct as she shook her head at the damage. She grimaced at the feeling of some slick oily substance that had mixed with the dusty plain beneath her and how gross it felt squishing between her fingers.

As the young woman leaned down, trademark blonde pigtails dangling with the force of gravity, Ace froze. It felt like time had suspended in that moment, wherein Bubble's cleavage was in full view and difficult to miss. He took in the details, and made a little note of the lacy flower pattern crisscrossed around one strap and along the cups.

When she snapped back up, Ace had to blink three times to get a hold of reality. In his belly, a familiar coil of heat began to take form and with the tension it drew came a self-loathing thought.

What had just happened was… beyond weird.

* * *

(22)

"Did I do this to you baby?" He's practically rushed over and Bubbles is still more stunned by the nickname. It's new, and she's still adjusting to hearing it in earnest from Ace.

"Huh?" She eventually looked down and blinked at the ugly welt on her forearm. Ace's thumb ran over it softly. "…Oh! Oh, no, it's ok. That was from the lake monster last week. I didn't notice it, but I guess… it's just showing up now…"

Her breath caught in her throat when Ace brought her bruise up to his lips and kissed it with a furrowed brow.

* * *

(3)

Huffing and puffing, the girl paid no mind to her companion's internal struggle. She continued to glare at Ace, and accidentally stomped her foot into the dirt again, like a miffed princess. The display, despite her intentions, was very cute - dainty, even. It belied the true strength and raw power hidden behind her fragile-looking stature.

"You... you're…!" Bubbles's nose scrunched with frustration. The amused smirk on Ace's face only made it worse.

Fists clenched at her sides, Bubbles practically screamed. "You're so full of yourself!"

Opposite her, the man's brow rose at her words, but then he was smiling again. Yet, this time it was a genuine, no-teeth-bared smile. The Powerpuff reeled back in surprise.

Ace chuckled. "Yeah. That's true."

The ex-gang member reached out with one lanky arm and ruffled Bubble's hair until it looked like a bird's nest atop her head. He turned away with a chuckle, before she could shriek at him for it.

"Come back when you figure out what you really want, kid."

* * *

(10)

They were in the alley outside of the club, where Bubbles had landed on his lap and Ace was sitting on a rickety garbage can, accommodating her.

Ace hissed as she scooted on top of him. Bubbles ignored him for the moment, too curious to keep her wandering hands from feeling the rigid appendage inside his jeans.

She ran her fingers over him, right down the seam of his pants, as though she were coaxing a frightened animal to trust her. And Ace tensed, hissing and grunting at the same time before he took her arm in one hand and squeezed in warning.

"Be careful, kid." His words made Bubbles pout. "Don't know if this is a good idea - ah!"

She glared at him for a moment, then proceeded to look back down and stroke him. "I'm not a kid."

"Ahh…" Ace's eyes closed tightly as he clutched her arm for dear life.

Her fingers were clever, despite Bubbles never having done anything like this before. She felt the shape of him through the fabric and reached for his zipper, wondering what he looked like underneath it all.


	3. Chapter 3

(0)

Ace couldn't remember his childhood. Life had only gotten interesting in his last few teen years, where he could finally shine at something. Everything before that was blurry and better off forgotten, if you asked him.

Leading a gang in Townsville had been Ace's calling, once. He hadn't been that great at school or sports or socializing. He'd been a nuisance since before he'd made a home in the City Dump, and had only managed to gain friends when a scant few suckers he'd scammed didn't realize that they could do better than him for a pal.

* * *

(0)

It took time. Took years of trying to shake off the unending fear of being caught and having to save face over and over again, but Ace eventually worked up the courage. He'd become nearly as neurotic as Snake by the time he'd eased into the local library in an anonymous sweatshirt and sweats. Constantly pushing his trademark sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, Ace had huddled in a darker corner of the building with an armful of respectable-looking books and begun reading.

Unlike Billy, Ace wasn't even close to be being illiterate. However, he quickly grew frustrated with the run-around in his chosen textbooks, and had almost been caught ripping out pages. That is, before the little old lady librarian came hobbling up to him, asking if there was anything she could do to help.

Ace had sneered at her, 100% sure that she was as blind as she was ugly, but had had his anger doused by her patience. The young man with green skin closed his book and quietly asked for a better resource for writing resumes.

Depending on who you asked, it was either all uphill or all downhill from there.

* * *

(0)

The librarian lady had cheerfully scavenged for "the perfect magazine" that had everything he needed. She'd even squinted at the local paper through her reading glasses, and had pointed out one or two job openings near the back that might've suited him.

The idea of a being a personal errand boy for an underling of the mayor left Ace feeling cold. Thus, he'd ended up trudging to a car dealership, seven blocks away from the dump he called home. Ace's hands shook within the confines of his sleeves as a wave of nausea, guilt and shame overtook him. It was dizzying to feel as proactive as he did out-of-control in that moment.

The junkyard had been attached to an auto mechanics business, locally owned and open to troubled youth and recovering criminals. He'd hesitated for a minute before walking inside, a bell ringing on the door to signal his arrival.

* * *

(0)

Townsville had a local jail and a courthouse, same as any city worth its salt. But it was four months after Ace's 18th birthday when he'd been shipped off to Citiesville and learned what hard time was really like.

They'd been robbing a gas station, and the only weapon the Gangreen Gang had had at the time was two switchblades and a stapler. Nothing special, nothing to get them confused with anything other than a lowly gang of kids screwing around and living life.

It had been enough to get them arrested, nonetheless.

Police from outside Townsville parameters, all the way from Citiesville in fact, had been parked on that street corner for God's knows what reason. And although Ace wouldn't admit to getting sloppy, he might've dropped the ball in not becoming aware of them watching until it was too late.

Then again, no one, not even Ace, would've suspected that a gang of kids like themselves could get treated so harshly and with such contempt. Maybe it was odd, but the gang had been terrorizing Townsville for years and had never been so brutalized as they were by these out-of-jurisdiction cops.

Ace had gotten the worst of it, and it was only slightly dramatic when he touted "simply being born" as the cause of his misfortune. Only 18-years-old, for less than half a year, and he was being brought to the big house without so much as a 10-minute trial. The grim, damp and dark and depressing prison they'd pushed him into was more intimidating than anything else he'd experienced.

And yet, Ace's parole officer had considered the abusive experience as a success, referring to Ace's good behavior after the first month of imprisonment as "him being scared straight".

* * *

(0)

Time began to slow.

Life became more routine.

It seemed impossible, but he'd begun drifting away from his former purpose as soon as he'd tried his hand at fixing something and not breaking it.

His first paycheck bought him food and new shoes and soap he could use in the YMCA showers at night. Ace had even managed to start saving up money before the gang noticed that something was different. That he wasn't going on solo heists like he'd lied about way back when. When the feeling of cuffs cutting into his wrists remained visceral.

Maybe it was shitty of him, but Ace had made it to a turning point. He'd taken a look at the City Dump one night and recoiled at the sight.

It was garbage. His new situation was tough and boring, but...

His old life was just garbage.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wanting to write more for this, but I was stuck with work and headaches. I hope someone out there likes this fic.

(3)

 

She avoided that part of Townsville for weeks. Bubbles wasn’t afraid of any of the villains that she’d come across in her long career as a superhero, but every time she thought about the ex-leader of the Gangreen Gang, Bubbles shuddered.

            It hadn’t occurred to her before then, but she and her sisters hadn’t seen much of said gang after graduating intermediate school. Their brand of hooliganism seemed to have reached its end by the time Bubbles turned 11, and it hadn’t been put into question then.

                        Or maybe it had. She honestly couldn’t remember, but Bubbles assumed that there hadn’t been much fuss over it then. With them gone, there was one less criminal roundup for the PPG.

 

* * *

 

(2)

 

Their home had become terribly quiet in only a few short months. Blossom had moved away to college to start a highly prolific educational career and Buttercup was thinking about the matter - more often than not, at friends’ places or during parties that went on all night.

            Bubbles was the only one of the trio to maintain her permanent residence where they grew up. She could come and go as she pleased, and did so, only to return later in the evening to her same old room. Sometimes, the young woman didn’t even bother leaving the house.

 

The time after high school to the present made going out less relevant, after all. Bubbles had friends, of course, but when those she knew reached their twenties and beyond, it seemed that they’d reached a different phase of life that the girl had yet to get to. More and more, those she’d coveted and cried over just the thought of leaving were moving away to better places - to start families and careers and adventures of their own.  

 

It wasn’t a problem for her until she only just took notice of her father’s pressing, worried looks her way. They came at the dinner table, or during TV time, and sometimes when he was cleaning around the house and found her still sat in bed a sketchpad at her side and nothing else.

 

Soon, the Professor began beating around the bush. His inability to scold Bubbles seemed to come from his exhaustion with Buttercup’s mishaps, along with the fact that Bubbles herself remained a daddy’s girl. Part of him wished for her company to continue, as the emptying house could get rather depressing. And yet, he knew that what was best for his children wasn’t always what he wanted.

 

 -

 

“I just think it might be a good idea to look. Just to look.” Utonium said. He and Bubbles had opted to eat dinner in front of the TV for once and make a night of binge-watching old cartoons.

 

The nostalgia ate at him, but the Professor pressed on. “Blossom has really, well, blossomed in college. With the way she talks about her experience, it sounds like maybe you would enjoy it, too. Plus, you can never be too educated.”

 

            Bubbles frowned. “Maybe… But if I’m gone, and Blossom’s gone, and Buttercup is the only one around… whose gonna be here to protect you and the city?”

            The Professor made to answer, but found that he couldn’t get the right words out, even when he’d wracked his genius brain for them.

 

* * *

 

(2)

 

Regardless, she should’ve expected it when she got a call from Blossom a few days later. It was mostly chit-chat, but the underlying message was clear as day: the Professor goaded Blossom into talking up her school experiences directly to Bubbles to make it seem more appealing.

 

For her part, Bubbles had dutifully listened and engaged with her sister over whatever Blossom wanted to talk about. She hadn’t really considered college to be a part of her future (if she considered her future at all), and she didn’t want to be rude. The more Blossom talked about it, the less Bubbles liked the idea.

 

* * *

 

(11)

 

“They don’t believe in me.” She mumbled with trembling lips. Salty tears trailed down and began to drip from her chin as the man sitting next to her offered an awkward smirk.

 

            “That ain’t true.” He said.

 

With surprisingly careful movements, Ace wiped below Bubbles’s eyes. He watched them crinkle and couldn’t help letting out a soft snort of laughter. She was too damn cute, no matter what she did.

 

Mistaking his fondness for scorn, Bubbles swatted his hands away. “Don’t make fun of me.”

 

“I’m not.” He said. “Not tryin’ ta, ‘t least. Kid, life is gonna kick ya when you’re down. Sometimes you gotta cry your way through it. I get that.”

 

            His advice made her go silent. The image of Ace ever crying in earnest was something that Bubbles could hardly imagine. And still, her heart went out to him at the very thought. She mourned for them both in an instant, depression returning like the snap of a rubberband.

 

Bubbles had her tiny hands wrapped around the lapels of his jacket as she’d been listening. Her grip became steadfast, and stronger than he’d anticipated (it was mystery how, after years of being beaten to a pulp by this same girl, Ace could forget her strength). Soon, Bubbles was yanking the man down with enough force to make him stoop, and those large eyes of hers were an inch away.

            In contrast to the sudden force, her lips were as gentle as flower petals against his. There was a lot to read in Bubbles’s kiss, but the very fact that she was kissing him of her own discretion was enough to overwhelm Ace.

 

He instinctively returned the gesture. Ace wasn’t necessarily a lecherous guy, but his body and brain were both working with a second nature - pretty girl kisses you, you kiss her back.

 

It didn’t appear to matter that that pretty girl was also his enemy.

 

Well, former enemy.

 

            The thought seemed to strike his companion as soon as it did him. Bubbles pulled away, mouth slightly agape and hooded gaze slightly dazed. She didn’t let go of his jacket right away, but her hands began slipping off his collar as she looked at him.

 

Without anything but the heavy silence between them, Ace noticed rather instantly that she was still trembling.

 

“Lemme walk ya home, huh?” He stood up from the table and held his arm out to the girl.

 

            Bubbles was hesitant, but eventually hooked her arm under his and let herself be led away. Few words passed between them on the walk back to her suburb, but neither brought up what had just happened.

 

            Ace mentally shrugged over it, both on the walk to and from the puff’s house.

 

The kissy stuff was just a one-off thing. Ladies as soft and sincerely feminine as Bubbles were, in his experience, prone to wearing their emotions on their sleeves. And she’d been upset and a little reckless from being buzzed.

 

He couldn’t blame her for thinking about doing something a little crazy.

It was the same as when Ace had noticed her bra those few months ago in the junkyard, or when he found himself staring into her guileless blue eyes for longer than he liked. It was the same as when he wanted to brush away the hair that got caught in the wind and stuck to her face. The same as when he needed a fix and, despite having an extensive mental catalogue of babes to choose from, Bubbles would pop up in his mind from time to time… 

 

* * *

 

(11)

 

It was a one-off thing. Then a ‘maybe twice would be nice’ thing when she snuck another kiss on the way to his favorite arcade. Then a ‘third time’s a charm’ when he was taking a smoke break between shifts and she’d practically cornered him in the yard.

 

Even before the fourth, fifth, sixth time, he was already matching her movements. Ace was comfortable with seeing her show up during lunch by the sixth kiss, and intent on seeing her at the door after work - to greet him with a seventh, eighth, ninth kiss.

 

By then, he’d already come to an understanding of how to get her giggling. Little details imprinted in his brain, like the feeling of her warm stomach beneath her blouses and how she loved it when he trailed away from her lips to her neck and up to her ear.

            The little noises she made were infuriatingly addictive. He felt soft inside and got hard at the same time whenever Bubbles hitched a breath. The number of kisses was thrown to the wayside once his little pangs of guilt turned in lurches of hunger.

                        It really wasn’t too long, despite his best intentions, before he became as much an instigator as herself. He needed her kisses as they became part of his daily routine, same as her touches and gasps, and the feeling of her yellow hair snared around his fingers.

* * *

 

(13)

 

His room. His room, his room, his room. They needed to get into his apartment so that they could _get into_ his room, but the clutch of keys wasn’t yielding to his mind’s demands.

 

            It had been a long night. They were both on that kick of residual energy that seemed to come with realizing that you were awake at 2AM, but it wasn’t with the help of alcohol like usual. Bubbles had clearly disliked going to the bar the first time, but she adored the arcade. And Ace hadn’t had a problem with it, not when he could snag a beer from the counter here and there.

 

He’d had fun sitting back for most of the night and watching the younger woman try to win as many tickets as possible. Her go-to-game was skeeball, which Ace didn’t have the heart to tell her was a kid’s game through and through. It was fun enough for Bubbles that he figured, in the back of his mind, that him telling her that hard bit of truth wouldn’t really upset her anyway.

 

            Nevertheless, Ace cheered for her during her best game and didn’t let the knowledge that he could spoil her fun get the best of him. For once.

 

She hadn’t drunken a single drop of malt, but the end of the night had Bubbles so flustered and breathless and louder than her usual self that she might as well have. She was completely eager when it came to running up and attacking Ace’s middle, practically barreling them into the floor as she kissed him in a rush.

            It was the adrenaline of winning big time, but when he got a good hold on her, Ace didn’t let the flighty girl go. He took his time, deepening their lip-lock with the ease that came from previous practice.

 

Now, they were outside of his door and Bubbles was clinging to his arm as he struggled to open it. A thin layer of sweat glistened on his green skin from running all the way home, and the consternation that came with having to keep his hour-long erection in tight jeans for so long. The little smooches that Bubbles snuck in on his knuckles and forearm and even right below his ear were not helpful in the slightest.

           

“I could just force it open.” She laughed.

 

She laughed harder when Ace gave her a Look from over his angular sunglasses. “Yeah, I don’t need a Bubbles-shaped hole in my door. Thanks.”

 

            “Aww,” She teased. Her small hand had become fitted in his as the correct key made itself known and he pushed the cruddy thing open at last.

 

Not exactly throwing her in, Ace turned to quickly shut the door behind them and locked it twice. He turned back around to face his guest, nothing really in mind aside from spontaneity, when he saw Bubbles looking at the room around them.

 

Ace had moved around a lot since he was 18-years-old. This was one of the longer-lasting places at about three years of him being there, and it was a pretty shabby studio with tacky wallpaper. His room was pretty much one with the kitchen, laundry, and bathroom. The latter of which was only a cube separated by another hollow door; the bare minimum of privacy.

            It was tacky and small and probably the best a lowly, lonely guy could hope for.

 

Bubbles spoke after some quiet. “I like it.”

 

Her companion rolled his eyes. “Pft. No, ya don’t.”

 

He moved across the shaggy carpet to put his sunglasses on his nightstand, and sent a kick to the frame of his pathetic bed. “This place ain’t even good enough for the rats. Theys all hanging around the complex across the street. Least it’s got a window washer guy up there on Tuesdays.”

 

            Bubbles giggled, and the sound was closer than Ace expected. He spun and looked down, becoming the subject of her inquisitive stare.

                        She moved forward in slow-motion, but as soon as he recognized the movement of her hand at the hem of his pants, Ace was quick to bridge the distance. He bent forward and cupped her face between his large hands. It was easier to keep steady and not pull too far away or too high for her to reach while he kissed her. Hell, it was necessary when he wanted to make out, which was exactly the plan.

 

* * *

 

(13)

 

She was laying on top of him on the bed, undone hair framing their faces as she took his bottom lip between hers and sucked on him lightly. Ace moaned, one hand that had been traveling up and down her side stopping to grope her thigh. The skirt she’d adorned for their late-night crusades had been hiked up to where he could teasingly snap at the elastic of her panties and make her squeak.         

            Those wonderful noises that he’d become insatiable for were never-ending in this position. He could, and gleefully, touch her everywhere. There was no chance of getting enough of Bubbles, even when he grabbed handfuls of her soft flesh and knead her breasts until her nipples reached a point.

 

And…

 

His spine straightened up painfully. Ace breathed in harshly as he felt curious touches against his jeans, right over the bulge that was still standing at attention. Before he knew it, Ace was sitting up again with the younger woman in his arms. Bubbles continued her gentle prodding with only a moment’s notice of his sudden change in demeanor. Curiosity seemed to have caught her well and good. Either that, or she was done with wondering how best to make him squirm as well as see him in his full glory.

 

Oh.

 

            She’d done it before, but it hadn’t led to anything. Ace had actually had enough self-restraint (probably all the restraint he had in himself for a whole month) to tell her ‘no’. But this time wasn’t like that time. That time had been a muddled kind of awkward, where he was still too full of himself and the past to consider Bubbles as a friend, much less as somebody to actually lust over.

 

It was a physical thing, then. Basic, animal instincts that anyone could ignore. Now, Ace let himself drift into the heaven of it. He reveled in the fact that he could be guilt-free, and the shock of her bold experimentation; how she clearly wanted it. Wanted him.

 

“Um, Ace?” Bubbles pulled away.

 

“Can…” She wrung her hands together. “Can we turn off the light?”

 

            “Wha - oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah, sure.” It took him a moment, but Ace complied. He was on his feet and back in lightening time, mind already having memorized the layout of the hole he called home.

            Bubbles’s blonde head caught whatever light there was, making it even easier. His arms were wrapped around her once more, and he could feel the space between them as she inhaled. For whatever reason, the sound of her breathing made him soften up. He approached Bubbles and connected with her delicately, wordlessly letting her decide what to do next.

            It was only slightly embarrassing - the sheer relief he felt - when she went back to stroking his face in the dark. She was close to him again, sitting on his lap in the next moment with one hand running up and down his neck.

 

* * *

 

 

(13)

 

“It stings.” The shiny film of tears in her eyes were the dead center of his world. Ace ran a hand through her hair in the dark.

 

There was no question that Bubbles had never done this before. And the realization was daunting.

 

Daunting, maybe. He really wanted this, however. He really, really wanted this. “Jus’ relax. Shhh. It’s gonna be ok.”

 

            Ace was struck by two desires; he wanted to lower himself and hold Bubbles close to make her stop crying, but didn’t want to move too much and cause her anymore pain at the same time.

 

            He settled for waiting, and simultaneously trying not to seek more of the wet heat engulfing his head. Ace hadn’t thought of getting any lubricant before then, but he was the slightest bit saved by how damp she was.

            While Bubbles squirmed and murmured anxiously below him, Ace stayed with all his weight concentrated on his hands and knees. Finally, she squeezed his bicep and shyly lifted her hips to meet him as a signal for him to continue.

 

Happy to oblige, Ace hunkered down and propped himself on his elbows to kiss her deeply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t want to shy away from the fact that Ace has flaws. Like he’s still selfish, vain, rough, etc. even when he’s got a thing for sweet Bubbles, but she’s one of those driving forces that softens up all of those negatives. And the same should be said for the other way around.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has become a dartboard project but I actually enjoy it.

(5)

 

They were all in Bubbles’s room, now. Comfy and warm with piles of blankets and each other to snuggle as snow flurried outside their oval windows. Inside, Bubbles felt true happiness, as it was almost like things had never changed. Her room had once been their room, where they’d spent all their time together, playing and fighting and play-fighting.

 

            “…finals _are_ the worst.” Blossom gabbed. “Especially the ones that start right in the middle of the afternoon. You’d think the morning ones would be hard, but my body is pretty much prepared for a 6AM test at this point.”  

 

“Jeez,” Buttercup took another swig of her grape soda, one arm dangling off the bed while her fingers twitched. “Why would you ever want to go through that? Voluntarily?”

 

Blossom glared at her. “It’s all part of succeeding! But, after they’re over, you feel like you really accomplished something. It’s the kind of stress that gets people to land on the moon.”

 

            “Oh sorry, didn’t get that.” Buttercup replied. She rolled her eyes with a smile. “I think I just anticipated another ego trip and tuned it out.”

 

Caught in the background, Bubbles stared out of the nearest window from her seat. She watched the snowflakes growing in size, swirling in the bitter wind. She was tucked away, safe and happy with a rosy complexion, while Townsville bared below freezing temperatures… and she wondered how Ace was faring.

 

            He had an apartment. He’d told her about it on occasion, mentioned a location, even. If she were just a normal girl with average options, it would probably take her a 40-minute bus ride to get to him just to say ‘Merry Christmas’.

            As it were, she was not an average human bound by gravity - but it was still too tumultuous outside for her to fly. The neighborhood he lived hadn’t been implied to be friendly, and his descriptions of what it looked like or where he stayed specifically were fuzzy in her memory. Bubbles would probably freeze before she found him, if she found him by pure luck. Who knew how long that could take as well? What would her family say to her leaving for some inexplicable reason and possibly not making it back?

 

It would turn into a nightmarish situation, that much Bubbles did know. She certainly hadn’t mentioned to her sisters or to her father that she’d made a new friend, or that said friend was an ex-con on the fringe of town.

The thought of telling made her anxious, uncomfortable, and even a little frightened.

 

Almost as much as the thought of a group of young boys with green skin, trying to sequester themselves somewhere in the City Dump and ride out the same snowstorm.

 

            “Bubbles knows I’m right, don’t you Bubbles?” Blossom swatted at the throw-blanket on the bed to get her spacing sister’s attention.

 

Bubbles opened her mouth, panicking slightly.

 

            “She’s not listening to you.” Buttercup’s smug reply beat her to it. “She’s probably thinking about fluffy rabbits in Christmas sweaters.”

 

            “Hey!” Bubbles exclaimed.

 

“You probably were.” Her sister shrugged. “Not a bad thing, dork. Anything’s better than thinking about a word Blossom says.”

 

Blossom repeated Bubbles’s previous remark, but with a quick jab to Buttercup’s leg. The bags beneath her eyes made her look extra, extra cranky. “Asshole.”

* * *

(1)

It must’ve been a month. Or maybe more? Bubbles didn’t know how she was able to scoot by a month with that unfortunate squirming in her belly over the fact.

 

The little square Driver’s Ed manual had stayed on top of her dresser since the night that Buttercup had handed it to her. Bubbles had had mixed feelings about holding the thing in her hands, let alone reading it again. Especially after  

            Something was holding her back, but it was awfully difficult to articulate. Bubbles had reached for it when laying eyes upon it, with Buttercup’s words replaying in her mind.

 

“Everyone wants freedom, the freedom to do what they want and choose where they wanna go,” she’d said. That was how it worked in her green-eyed sister’s mind - a concept was better made into a physical object to win or conquer.   
  
She could see Buttercup in her mind’s eye, making a fist and holding it out as if to challenge the sky itself. “You can’t wait for it, though. You gotta go get it!”

 


	6. Chapter 6

(3)

 

He avoided her as much as he could; but Bubbles appeared to think this was some kind of game.

 

            Ace had initially wanted to just dip out of work - his job as a mechanic sucked anyway. It was almost a joke, as if the world was questioning how dirty and greasy he could truly get. He’d spent the majority of his life as an urchin, dwelling among heaps of trash. All kinds of trash, in fact. Say what you would, but being a teen in the City Dump with no guaranteed water or shelter or safety was more dignified than pulling out multiple money loans and working like a dog at a job he absolutely hated. At least, Ace hadn’t been alone in that…

 

            … Maybe she was just an idiot. Blossom was the smart sister, right? The leader. Ace had been the leader of the Gangreen Gang, in part due to his wits and general scheming nature at the time. Buttercup was tough and impulsive, but Ace distinctly remembered how she could come to her senses and pick up on a plot very quickly.

 

Bubbles was a bit of a mystery. He’d hated her as much as he hated her kin, but there’d never been any connection beyond that. No shared banter or panicked apologies and excuses.

            No, she hadn’t been anything other than a Powerpuff Girl, and hating her was all that mattered.

                        Unfortunately, that wasn’t good enough to suffice at present. She was a sneaky little pest, first finding him on a lunch break as he was pulling cigarettes from his jacket pocket and standing in the bitter cold. He could’ve had a heart attack from the sudden squeak of her voice as she asked her insipid little question. He’d pivoted to face her, baring his teeth and ready to yell when he made eye contact.

 

Those ridiculously large blue eyes were hard to get out of. “Do you have a car?”

 

He was hunched down with the cigarette burning away, nearly forgotten. His pause appeared to make the girl anxious, and Bubbles kicked up dust as her eyes began to look anywhere but at him.

 

“Do you like it? What’s it like to drive? How far out of town do you go?” She started rambling. “I mean, I thought about it for a long time and I realized that I was leaping headfirst into this decision without any actual advice. Buttercup has a car, and it’s nice when she takes me for rides, but I get too distracted by everything passing by and you’re not supposed to do that. You have to concentrate really hard on where you’re going… right? The Professor said it’s like you need eyes in the back of your head as well as in front, is it just like that? I don’t want to get hit by another car, or hit their car! Do I need to be looking everywhere all at once?”

 

 

She waited, afraid to look up at him again in cold January afternoon.

 

            “Ask ya sister.” He deadpanned.

 

Ace earned a pout for that. And yet, he turned his back and tried to salvage the smoke that she’d so rudely interrupted.

            The kid was made out of glass. She shattered quickly from his clear disdain for her (again) and flew away after ten minutes or so, likely from discomfort.

 

            Her victim hadn’t the slightest doubt that she’d be coming back quite soon.

 

* * *

 

(13)

 

             He knows he’s screwed up when Bubbles is whimpering in the dead of night. He feels as if his heart had been stopped when he wakes in a panic and sees her staring at him on the other side of the bed. When he tries to reach out to her, a reflex he couldn’t deny himself, the man saw his hand shaking like mad.

 

            Bubbles hurriedly shuffled into his arms and held him tightly, letting him feel warm tears drag down his back. “Are you okay?”

 

The breath he lets out is shaky. He feels clammy on the outside and overheated within, with the sweat that should’ve dried up hours ago still sticky on his skin. Ace blinks hard and wills away the liquid gathering at the corners of his own eyes and tries to hold Bubbles close.

 

“Y-yeah.” Ace settled. “Hey, it’s not that bad. I’m alright, alright?”

 

She pulled back and faced him with a red face and eyes. “You were screaming!”

 

_Shit._

 

            “It’s not that bad _usually_ , I meant.” Ace said. He caressed her hair, attempting to soothe himself as much as his friend. Her eyes were still wide and frightened, but the tension was starting to leave her shoulders.

 

“Do you…” Bubbles whispered. “Have nightmares every night?”

 

            The ex-con closed his eyes, wishing that this was a question that never had to be asked. Her hand over his heart only made the sense of vulnerability and shame worse, which was surely the opposite of Bubbles’s intentions.

 

“It… it doesn’t matter.” He replied. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

Her lower lip trembled, but he continued. “I didn’t mean to scare ya. Uh - if you wanna turn on the light? I can get dressed and take you home.”

 

            Face crumpling all over again, Bubbles sobbed. “What do you mean? You want me to leave?”

 

“I won’t ask anymore questions!” She said hurriedly. “I’m sorry! I won’t do it again! I was just a scare-dy cat.”

 

            Ace stared at her in disbelief. Bubbles wiped at her tears rather furiously in return. “P-p-please don’t send me away.”

             

* * *

 

(3)

 

            She came back again, not in a month but in a mere two days. The same question spilled out of her mouth, though her rambling seemed to have stabilized a tiny bit.

Ace cursed the day he’d taken up smoking. His need for it on break was what drew him out into the late winter, otherwise he’d be inside and soaking up whatever heat the radiator had to offer.

 

Bubbles flew off just before his lunch break was over, huffing over the absolute silent treatment he’d given her. It wasn’t going to work for more than a day or two, just like before.

 

The next time he went out, she was waiting for him and toeing at a thin metal sheet made of tin. Her worrying of her own lip ceased as soon as she saw him stepping out of the shop, and Bubbles actually smiled happily.

            It dropped when he got a better view of her there.

 

Ace sighed.

 

            “Am I really that bad? Just for asking a question?” She asked him.

 

When he didn’t reply, Bubbles’s lack of self-esteem took to truly shining. “If you answered, I might go away… You won’t ever had to see or hear from me again.”

 

            A deep inhale, and then Ace was puffing white smoke through his semi-parted lips. He looked right through her. “That’s a gamble, and I don’t do that stuff no more.”

 

            Bubbles blinked. He hadn’t spoken to her in so long that the awkwardness had worn off a while ago. “Huh? A gamble?”

 

“You think I won’t leave if you just tell me?”

 

            The concept was one he craved. He just wanted to be alone.

But life didn’t give a shit, not now and not then. Ace’s old life was meant to haunt him forever, and the proof stood opposite him in a too-pink dress with bunny patterns all over it.

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

(0)

 

It was 8 years to the day that he’d gotten arrested and tried as an adult when Ace got an unexpected call. If he’d known it at the time, the man wouldn’t have dared answer any call.

 

Lil’ Arturo was lucky that his former leader had been ignorant, otherwise he’d have spent another night in jail.

 

 

            The old nerves had evened out as Ace made an honest living, but that didn’t make the jailhouse any more inviting. It was mildly full, with echoes of prisoners and detainees yelling their innocence. Ace passed a few despondent guards here and there, and even a public attorney or two before he was led to a crowded cell near the back.

 

            “Hey, Boss.” Arturo’s fringe of hair covered his eyes and Ace had to hand it to the little guy - he had the decency to look ashamed.

 

Ace sighed.

 

“This him?” Ace’s unofficial official tour guide questioned. The guard was twice Ace’s side, but clearly lacking when it came to brain cells. Ace turned to him and nodded anyway, quelling the desire to tap his foot against the floor impatiently.

 

He turned away as soon as Arturo was stepping out of the cell and began to walk to the front of the precinct. He hadn’t done a thing, but Ace could feel his mood souring in real time as his shoulders slumped. It felt like he was walking through quicksand after so many years of avoiding this very place. Or any place remotely like it.

 

Nevertheless, Arturo was trying to catch up to Ace with his much shorter legs as fast as he could before the taller man came to a halt. He was looking sideways with eyes wide, taking in the chaos that he hadn’t realized existed until that very moment.

           

            Lil’ Arturo swept the fringe from his eye and followed Ace’s lead. It was a bit of a shock to see three officers trying to wrangle in another **green** individual - shouting, cursing, screaming - into a cell.

 

“Who do you think you are? D’you even know who I am?!” To hear his voice was to have an electrical current bolt straight through your brain. “Git me a private cell or somethin’ for Satan’s sake!”

 

Two pieces of the Gangreen Gang recognized him instantly, but the Townsville police station was more or less completely put out from top to bottom.

 

* * *

(14)

 

Bubbles had taken to spending evenings and nights with him, keeping him company more often than ever before. She wouldn’t tell Ace why it was suddenly alright for her to do so, but he cared more to keep her close than to ask and make a mess of things. Instead, he looked for new things to keep her entertained.

            She’d been content with what they’d been doing before - arcade, late night coffee, galloping around town - but the world had shifted recently. It wasn’t a shift proposed by words, but by the way they moved closer to each other upon sight. If Bubbles moved to hold his hand, Ace would take it without a word. If Ace pulled her forward and squeezed her like he was trying to mold their bodies together, she embraced him.

 

“Ace -! Wait-!” Bubbles inhaled sharply, unable to stop herself from squeaking again and again. She couldn’t speak without stuttering as she was bounced up and down. “What if they see it-?”

 

Ace groaned. He let go of one of her legs - making her quickly latch it around his waist - to brace them both again the wall. His hot breath and the vibration against her skin had Bubbles closing her eyes, shuddering.

 

            His lips had left her neck for a moment. Boney hips still working frantically. “Shh, relax. They’ll just think you been fightin’.”

 

She could’ve argued, then. None of her clothes were torn and her fists weren’t bruised almost black like usual and there wouldn’t be anything to report on the news after she’d been out crime fighting. But then, Ace was back to licking her skin and lifting her up against the thin wallpaper with his hips.

 

            Instead, Bubbles clung to him fiercely, pressing her face into his neck and ready to ride out the inevitable wave to come.

 

Among other things.

 

* * *

(15)

She breathed in deeply and sighed. Ace was still slightly sweaty and oh so warm as she lay across his chest. The hair on his arms was still on end above his goosebumps and she had to quietly giggle at that.

Bubbles spared a look at his face and cooed inwardly over how serene he looked. His hair had fanned out across the pillows and his eyes were closed, the shadow of a smile lingering at the corners of his mouth.   
  
“What’a’ya lookin’ at?” He murmured. Ace pulled her up somewhat from his chest and kissed her forehead.   
  
“A sweetheart.” She smiles against his collarbone.   
  
Bubbles heard him scoff through his nose and felt it through the rise of his chest. She returned to using him as a pillow to rest on.   
  
There was silence.   
  
“You make me so happy.” Bubbles said. No snort of laughter met her statement, and she was too afraid to look at his face, then.   
  
It was a lot to say. Even as a simple sentence... it felt like more than that, in no less than maybe five months.   
  
In her head, she told him ‘I love you’.   
  
The silence lasted for longer than the first go. She tried to stifle the wobble of her lower lip, feeling a dip in her previous contentment as sadness started in. Suddenly, Ace was running a hand through her hair. Rising ever so slightly from the bed, he kissed the top of her head.  
  
“You make me happy, too.” He said in an undertone, so slow she had to strain to hear him.  
  
But she did, before the phone rang.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate the views and reviews! I love writing this weird stuff.

(15)

 

Bubbles pulled the covers up to her chin, staring at the bedspread around her blankly. Ace had shifted to the side of the bed and become more animated than she’d seen him all morning.

 

“It’s good ta hear from yous again!” It had take him two seconds to seemingly recognize the voice on the other side, and when he did, it jolted him from the warmth they’d basked in together. Ace had nearly knocked his partner right off the mattress.

 

            Prone to overthinking, Bubbles tried to side-step her inherent nature and remain neutral as he seemingly forgot that she even existed.

                        Too sensitive. Bubbles blinked rapidly to stow away the tears gathering in her eyes, truly frazzled to suddenly be left in the metaphorical cold. Whoever it was calling was certainly someone important to her… friend. More important than herself, probably.

 

            “Oh, the same.” He spoke while hunched over, then snickered. “Nothin’s changed. Not much.”

 

Bubbles considered leaving the room to give him privacy, but shivered the moment she peeled off the blankets. She found her underwear near the end of the bed and pulled it on before hunting for her shirt and shorts.

 

            In the back of her mind, the Powerpuff registered a long bout of silence from the other end of the room once she pulled on her shirt. Trying to keep it far away and not an immediate fuel for insecurity, she took a moment to mirror Ace’s position on the opposite side of his bed.

 

When suddenly a firm grasp tugging her backward sent Bubbles into a brief panic, her head swiveled to face him again. Her tightening throat made it hard to breathe, but she made direct eye contact with Ace, who was fixing her with the most intense gaze she’d ever seen.

            “No way…” The sound was breathy, and he was far away. But Ace slid a hand down and intertwined his and Bubbles’s fingers together and held her securely.

 

“That’s, uh… that’s too bad… for him.” Bubbles’s brow wrinkled as she gave him a questioning look.

 

            He rubbed a thumb over the back of her hand in response, but couldn’t find the words to address it. His lower jaw was lowering and lowering, like a stupefied fish.

 

The blonde at his side looked just as much like a deer in headlights when he inhaled sharply. “O-of cou - Yeah! I can do that! I can come over now if you want!”

 

“Ow,” Bubbles muttered as he squeezed her hand to the point of almost crushing it. “Ace!”

 

The world stopped as all the momentum building unevenly between Ace, his phone, and his girl as he visibly froze.

 

He was in a daze. “’Kay… tomorrow. Tomorrow.”

 

The dial tone sounded before Ace ended the call. He was left staring at Bubbles with wide, dark eyes.

 

            It didn’t take too long for him to pull her into a hug, steadfast and strong, before breathing the word ‘tomorrow’ in her ear. Bubbles still had no idea what had just happened.

 

“Tomorrow, babe. Tomorrow!”

* * *

 

(0)

 

_The world was supposed to end with plastic. The apocalypse made from greed and vanity, hiding the only beautiful thing left in its waste was supposed to make their canvas go blank. Instead, it merely shifted things._

_Because she brought the world back with her, upon her return._

_And lo, while Faust was reinvigorated to use his gifts again - something that shouldn’t have mattered by the end, when the epitome of his soul was dragged to hell and left him an empty husk, the rest of the demon underbelly cursed the resilience of the green world._

_Murdoc had spouted off about it after a few years and an eviction notice, after he began piecing the entire puzzle together. But it was after he’d realized it, and the mania in his eyes sobered until he’d withdrawn and become sick at himself, that the soft whispers came from out of closets and beneath their houses._

_The last time they’d moved had been the most glib at first._

_Then._

_2D had once come crashing through into Noodle’s room in the middle of the night, convulsing and decrying the red demon in his room… the one that snapped its lobster claws at him and laughed._

* * *

 

(13)

 

He hadn’t paid that much attention to the looks that other people gave him before now.

 

            It hadn’t occurred to him that he preferred going out late at night if he had to go out at all, either.

 

 

He hadn’t paid that much attention to the looks that other people gave him before now. Yet, of all places, he and Bubbles were making a minimart run at 6AM when the subject gave him pause.

 

“Ace-y, I’m tired.” She muttered, head tucked into his shoulder. They had a basket of junk food secure in one of Ace’s arms while she hugged the other.

 

            “Tha’s tough, Powerpuff.” He winced at her nickname for him. “We ain’t done yet.”

 

She continued to whine, heedless. “My feet are gonna fall off.”

 

            His head turned sideways. Ace looked at her like her words could actually come to fruition. “Can’t yous fly?”

 

Bubbles pouted. She shook her head at him like he was being the pest. “Then I’ll get tired of flying. I have no energy!”

 

“Tch.” He rolled his eyes (not that she could see it with Ace’s preference to wear his shades everywhere and any time).

 

            He moved ahead of her, long legs letting him get some menial upper hand on the much shorter girl with him. Ace could feel her sulking behind him, before he abruptly stopped and kneeled down to the cold store floor.

 

He didn’t need to look at Bubbles to know that she’d stopped, stunned and probably looking at him as if he were crazy. Turning to look over his shoulder, Ace noted how right he was and felt a fond smile grow on his face.

 

            “Get on already.” He said after a pause.

 

Ace turned away when the warmth in his chest grew too great, because he hadn’t missed the beautiful way Bubbles’s eyes had lit up as she understood what he intended.

 

            When her legs had wrapped themselves around his middle, Ace hoisted the girl up and returned to motoring down the aisles. Her arms were strung about his shoulders, soft against his neck and careful to move his shoulder-length hair from accidentally being pulled. They hadn’t gone far when he felt Bubbles sigh against his throat.

 

            “Thank you.” She sounded both sleepy and content.

 

“Uh-huh.” He let her doze on top of him, growing heavier while he continued perusing the aisles and finding the last of what he needed. A spontaneous stop near the back of the store made him gently jostle the girl on his back.

 

            “Chocolate or Strawberry? I forgot.” She mumbled into his skin, and he strained to hear her say ‘strawberry’ before maneuvering to try and keep her settled while opening up the refrigerated section of milk.

 

He turned around, in time to see a group of girls looking at them.

 

            “Aww,” one girl cooed. She looked like she might be Bubbles’s age beneath the overuse of fake tanner and the bleached hair and overly-filled lips.

            She stood at the back of the herd, perhaps one of the lesser subordinates in the hierarchy of girls (or whatever it was that girls had). The others ahead of her were all very similar despite this - Ace didn’t know how to describe it beyond them all being poufy and glossy, with overly-priced clothes hiding enhanced curves.

 

            “That’s so cute.” Another girl in the group said. “My dad used to give me piggyback rides when I was little, too!”

 

                        A pit formed in Ace’s stomach as he instinctively sneered at the snarky chick. He felt like he’d go belly up from being perceived like _that_ , and yet it only made him hold Bubbles closer.

            The girl in question was still half-asleep, and didn’t appear conscious enough to retaliate. And that was probably for the best - probably, although it would be one hell of a good time to see his girl get righteously angry and throw these queen bees through the ceiling.

                        The questioning and hurt and self-doubt that would surely come after such a thing wasn’t worth it.

 

“I don’t see no actual guy offering right now, though. Do yous girls?” He asked, grinning as their similarly-painted faces slowly betrayed flushed cheeks and disgust over his remark.

 

* * *

(13)

 

When he got home, his back was aching. Still, Ace took the time to gently set Bubbles onto her wobbly feet and guide her into his bed. He joined her after getting ready, sliding into the thin covers and letting her grab at him like a teddy bear.

 

He accepted the role happily, having never felt as tired and content as then.


	9. Chapter 9

(10)

 

“So…” Blossom was smiling one of those secret smiles. Her lips went off-kilter while she sipped lemonade through a straw. “Dad says you’ve been getting out of the house more and more.” 

 

Bubbles ducked her head, tucking her chin into the hollow of her chest as she tried to deter that all-knowing gaze that her sister had never lost. “Yes…” 

 

“I’ve been with friends.” She said after a beat. 

 

“Just friends?” 

 

Blossom wasn’t the most violent of the trio, since she’d always been more diplomatic in nature, but she had an annoying habit of ‘wringing necks’ to get the information she wanted. Despite being her sister, and one of her closest friends when they were children, Bubbles wasn’t exempt from that treatment. 

Maybe, it was because they were once so close and still - in terms of outside appearances - were technically so, that Blossom was willing to get her way by any means possible. 

 

The thought made Bubbles tamper down a shiver. Apprehension had seized her chest and her throat had gone dry when she knew that she’d have to live out the challenge. 

 

Bubbles mumbled. “Nobody’s asked me out in a long time, not since we were in middle school. You know that.” 

 

It was painful to see Blossom frown, and her forehead crease with pity. 

 

“I’m not trying to be mean, Bubbles.” Blossom retorted. “ _ You _ know  _ that _ .” 

 

They sat in silence for a beat, and it was hard to process the well of anger building inside of Bubbles’s chest. Like bile, it rose up while it burned her lungs, and she feared it coming out all at once and making the pain worse.

 

Her head tossed to the side as Bubbles looked away from her sister. 

* * *

(16)

 

Bubbles hid her blonde hair beneath a navy-colored hat and looked out from behind large, heart-shaped sunglasses. The green man at her side had made an oft-hand comment about it belonging to his friend, and how she’d been kind enough to give it to them. 

 

The way he spoke and the way his dark eyes sparked made Bubbles melt. She had a feeling that he wouldn’t appreciate it being made public, but it was ever-so-endearing when he became starry-eyed over being given things. 

 

It wasn’t unthinkable, considering his past. But, she’d come to crave how clearly touched he was whenever she did something, or gave him something, that he hadn’t asked for.

 

It was truly a sight to behold when  _ he _ gave  _ her _ something without her ever asking, though. 

 

“You doin’ alright?” Ace’s voice broke her concentration, but when she looked up to answer, Bubbles nodded and beamed. 

 

“Of course!” Her small voice was bright and hopeful. Any traces of her former sorrow seemed to have vanished along with her eyes and golden hair. She nudged Ace with her hip, and watched him as he gave her a sideways smirk. 

 

“Are you ‘doin’ alright’?” Bubbles mimicked him poorly with her hands on her hips, and squiggle of joy spawned in her belly as Ace roughly pulled her into him with a laugh. 

 

They were at the back of the bus, in a dimmer row than all the rest. There were few people on board, as it was pretty late. Nevertheless, Bubbles felt her face heat up as a large, green hand slid down her backside. 

Ace hadn’t ever been afraid about PDA. In fact, he seemed to be wired for it. They didn’t do it all that often in the first place. Still, Bubbles felt a little mortified and a little dangerous, being engaged in anything of the kind. All while they remained inconspicuous - just a couple doing dumb couple stuff. 

 

To keep her head, she leaned into his chest until she made contact with the warmth of his skin, exposed by the neck as he’d messed with his collar several times on their way there. She could hear his words, nearly a baritone as she listened at the height of his shoulders. 

 

“We’re almost there,” he whispered. “An’ then it’ll be jus’ you an’ me…” 

 

“And the band.” She reminded him gently. 

 

“Nah, I get my own room.” Ace sidestepped her point completely. “And it’ll be the nicest room you’ve ever seen, trust me. You’re gonna feel like a princess.”

 

He spoke with such reverence. “Ain’t nothin’ gonna come between us then.” 

* * *

 

“You had to make it all about you!” 

 

Her sister had been encouraging at first, had poured time and effort into understanding what had come over Bubbles but… she just couldn’t. No one could, it seemed. And their family was, itself, a modern miracle. She had more than one genius in her family, and it did her no good. 

 

When she stopped skipping to class by age 10, and became little more than a waif by age 15, Bubbles’s father and sisters began to show how put-out they were. She’d tried to move out of their way. In doing so, she’d practically become a shadow in their home.  

 

Blossom glared at Bubbles while she carefully took off her heels. Her makeup looked slightly garish and chalky beneath the fluorescence in their former room, and it highlighted the frustration physically maring her skin. 

 

Bubbles cried as she hid in a bundle of blankets, too afraid to look away. She felt as though her heart were literally cracking, as though it would collapse beneath the panic that had gripped her. 

 

“You’re so selfish!” The red-head was gritting her teeth. “It was supposed to be for all of us!” 

 

“I thought you had a good time!” Bubbles sobbed. “T-that’s not good enough?” 

 

Blossom sighed. She rose from the bed and stopped in front of the vanity while taking a makeup removal wipe from her handbag and gently dabbing at her cheeks. When she turned to look at her sister, the angry expression she’d been sporting seemed to have been wiped away as well. 

 

“I wanted you to be there.” Her composure had returned, but to Bubbles, it only made things worse. “I wanted to see you have a good time. Enjoy graduation. It was a great opportunity and now it’s just… gone.” 

 

Bubbles tightened the covers about her shoulders, gripping the edges around her and pulling them close.  _ Because of me.  _

 

“You being there, and being happy, would’ve made it a good time.” Blossom leaned forward and squeezed her sister’s shoulder. Although silent, Bubbles felt as though she couldn’t breathe. She cried harder. 

 

She did. She ruined everything. 

* * *

(15)

 

Bubbles had dreaded asking anyone - not that she could ask anyone other than Ace. Nevertheless, she’d asked for his help the night before and he’d managed to make everything pretty convincing.

 

The note was left on the nightstand, next to their old hotline. It promised safety. Love. Goodbye. 

 

She’d shaken so terribly trying to articulate herself that Ace had quietly taken the paper and pen out of her hands and had begun to write everything himself. Then, he’d held her in his lap and promised her that it wasn’t the end of the world. They’d remained that way until well into the night, with the Professor being out of town for the weekend. 

It was perfect timing.

 

They could return, and maybe then things would be different. 

 

But not before then.

  
  



	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something is actually happening? Holy hell! Thank you for the comments~!

(16) 

“Noodle!” The nasally voice alerted her to his presence even before she saw him. 

Noodle was already grinning fully, freely when her friend bounded up to give her a rough hug with one arm. It was customary, and not out of a choice to be delicate with the 4”11 woman - Ace knew perfectly well that Noodle could break him in half if she wanted to. All of her boys knew it. 

“I got someone I wanna show ya!” Ace said. “It’s… I mean  _ she’s  _ here and I want you to meet her!” 

One of Noodle’s eyebrows rose. “She?” 

Ace’s mouth dropped open, but it clicked for Noodle instantly. “Oh! She!” 

           A tremor ran along the guitarist’s spine as she imagined one of her childhood heroes somewhere nearby. Noodle had loved hearing about the Powerpuff Girls and their exploits, even before she could articulate how empowering and badass they were, especially for little kids. 

Bubbles slowly edged into the doorway, small hands wrapped around herself as she tried to look anywhere but at her two companions. Her shyness shown not only in her posture, but also the scarlet red of her flushed cheeks and the way her feet shuffled on the glassy floor. 

A bonafide adult, and she was no less adorable for it. 

Noodle immediately moved to greet Bubbles, a wide grin on her face. She’d always plunged into tricky situations with plucky, enthusiastic spontaneity; and even if she was over the moon in meeting one of her role models, Noodle didn’t let it stop her this time. 

“It’s so nice to meet you, Bubbles!” She was shaking the blonde’s hand vigorously. Noodle tried not to coo over the way Bubble’s looked at her through her lashes. In the back of her mind, the guitarist remembered that she was years the powerpuff’s senior. 

From woman to woman, it shouldn’t have mattered. 

* * *

(16)

Buttercup was the first to find the letter. She read it thrice over before she could begin to explain the tightness in her throat, and piece together everything into some form of coherence.

She spent moments after that staring blankly at the wall of their former room. The round windows they’d once made as children showed nothing but the darkness of the empty night. The moon was nowhere in sight, nor the stars to make spaces in the sky. 

* * *

(0)

 

“I’m not trying to be rude, I’m sorry.” She spoke so quietly that he had to lean in to hear her. “But I… I don’t want to be here.” 

 

The man sitting across from her had a careworn face and salt and pepper hair. He looked like someone’s nice grandpa more than he did a medical professional. 

 

“Many, many people in this world attend therapy.” He said. “Even therapists have therapists. It doesn’t mean the person in need of help is terrible or crazy.” 

 

Bubbles nodded mindlessly, but she still hid within the confines of her sweater. That was what most frightened her. Being  _ crazy _ . “Blossom says the same thing.” 

 

He smiled. “You know, I actually admire you. I don’t often hear about superheroes receiving counseling, and honestly they might need it the most. You’re very brave, Bubbles.” 

 

The doctor’s words made Bubbles’s train of thought hitch. She was twelve-years old, still with pigtails on either side of her head, and shrinking down in her peacoat. The heroine felt anything but brave. 

 

They had been going through growth spurts. 

          The mayor had died last April. 

                           Ms. Keane was still teaching, but the girls weren’t little anymore. They’d been separated by ability - Blossom had moved up to the advanced classes while Buttercup took a shine to sports. 

           With that came new friends and new experiences, not all of which Bubbles could participate in. 

           Bubbles was average at best, and unlike her sisters, the urge to be competitive and outspoken only hurt her.  

The beauty of the green grass and leaves on trees, the wonderful blue sky and the sweet smelling air were an afterthought now.

 

When they fought crime, it wasn’t always together. They couldn’t always depend on each other, even when Bubbles needed them the most.

 

 

What scared her the most was that she was probably crazy. Lately, she’d surveyed damage done by villains of all creeds and had had recurrent thoughts. Ugly thoughts. Thoughts of how nothing mattered, and of never leaving her bed despite the despair just outside her room. 

 

“There are different kinds of bravery.” Her counselor stopped taking notes and made eye contact with her. “It’s not all about defending others. I think it’s brave when people acknowledge that there’s something they need to work on about themselves. Part of growing up is learning that not everything stays the same as it was in the beginning. 

 

“Life is ever-changing.” He huffed a laugh. “Not always in ways you expect.” 

* * *

(14)

 

He was on the floor with her, fingers working to deliver the melody that he’d reluctantly promised. The bass was a beat up old thing. It looked like it had been well-used for years, and so it had been. Ace didn’t remember everything about the past, but he remembered being a kid and looking through a shop window.

The music shop was mostly used for selling records, but he’d caught sight of the flashy blue and purple bass guitar and stared at it for what might’ve been hours. The tv monitors ranging in size all showed the same scene - fingers gliding over the strings of a guitar as sweet music came muffled from the other side of the glass. 

 

He could hear himself in her words. 

Bubbles inhaled as she spoke with wonder. “I wish I could do that!” 

 

Ace glanced at her with a smile, warm all over, inside and out. His girl lay on her side with her long hair splayed out all around them  as she listened attentively. Her smile was glowing in the dark, sincere and overjoyed. When had sharing ever felt so damn good? 

 

Ace couldn’t play the songs to perfection with just this instrument alone, but he did his best. The sound of  _ Clint Eastwood _ couldn’t be mistaken for anything else, not after he’d practiced like hell, especially in the past few weeks. 

 

“Yous should listen to the real thing.” 

* * *

(1)

 

“‘D?” 

 

Russell squinted in the darkness, just making out the shape of a lanky man half-hidden in the dark. 2D had done weird shit in the past when he’d had too many painkillers, but the way he stood in the doorway was unsettling. 

His posture was perfect, but his limbs twitched to some beat that Russel couldn’t hear. The larger man sat up in his bed and switched his bedside lamp on. 

 

“What the hell ‘re you doin’?” Russell sighed. 

 

He jolted when his unwanted companion began to speak. “There’s somefin’ in my room again.” 

Russell sighed again, scrubbing a hand down his face. “We can’t keep doin’ this, man.”

 

“No, no, no! Russ!” 2D’s eyes were wide and eerily bright. “It spoke this time! I can’t get it to go away by myself! Please! Just look!” 

 

He bent down and was on his knees then, with only two strides into the room. The look of desperation on he gave Russel was alarming to say the least, and though he wanted nothing more to ignore it… Russel rose from the comfort of his bed. 

He let himself be walked to the other end of the house, where 2D scurried to open the door. It was no surprise that there was a gigantic mess of clothing, bottles, cigs, and assorted things that Russell had no intention of investigating inside. Everything else looked relatively normal. 

 

“You leave the window open?” His eyes went straight for the firmly shut pane as 2D stuttered. There was a crack between the curtains, casting a silver sliver of light through the center of everything.  

 

“No.” He shivered. “Wouldn’t do tha’. It’s not outside though, it’s in me closet!” 

 

Groaning, Russell turned from one side of the bedroom to the other and approached the closet door. The thing looked like an ancient prop out of a horror movie with its whitewashed doors and ventilated slits, but that wasn’t what deterred Russell. 

 

He paused just shy of opening one of the doors by its handle as a pit formed in his stomach. He couldn’t hear anything. He couldn’t see anything. 

 

But it smelled like death. 

 

Prying it open, Russell starred in silence at the sight of a dead and mangled manatee, left raw and bleeding on the closet floor. 

 

Heedless to the gasp that came from just over his shoulder - as 2D covered his eyes and wailed over the corpse in front of them - Russell opened the doors as wide as they could go. 

 

He turned on his heels and grabbed 2D by the wrist. “Go get Murdoc.” 

  
  



	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :[ 
> 
> Welp.

(14)

_Following her had not been one of her brightest ideas. It was just that…_

_Blossom missed her sister._

_She really did._

_Yet, no matter what she did, Bubbles seemed to continue to drift further away. She'd clammed up as soon as Blossom returned home and showed surprising tenacity when it came to saying as little as possible about her life or how she felt._

_It didn't hide the fact that something was going on when Bubbles became tight-lipped. The Professor seemed of two minds about it when Blossom asked: relieved and gently joyful over his daughter's happiness, (which never showed when Blossom was around) but also anxious over how late she continued to be coming home._

_Buttercup knew. She had to have seen the changes. The signs. Asking her got Blossom zilch, though; or rather, a shrug of supposed indifference._

_And if Bubbles knew her at all, then she had to have known that this was coming._

_But then, Blossom realized that she, herself, didn't know Bubbles at all._

_Bubbles had flown several miles from their suburb and through seedier parts of Townsville with practiced ease. It had initially made her redhead sister frown, but she remained curious. Bubbles had always been a caring, sweet girl even after… age 11. Maybe she was helping a gentrified neighborhood or attending to lost and forgotten elders in a group home on the south side._

Blossom's heart stopped. The moment lasted for so long that it felt as though days had passed before Ace had broken away from her sister.

The longing in her sister's eyes made Blossom's stomach turn. Her heart felt like a rock falling through her ribcage at the scene unfolding in front of her.

"One more? Please?" Bubbles batted her eyelashes at the ex-con, already puckering up for a kiss like a child. Her silly antics were met with nasally laughter before Ace made a show of sighing.

"Come over here, then." He held a hand out to her, letting the instrument on his lap slip down to the floor as he met Bubbles's eager return halfway. Long nails like claws snaked through blonde hair as he held the back of her head and pressed his lips to hers.

Blossom hung in the air in silence, but didn't wait for them to pull apart before she was falling away. Before she could hit the ground, Blossom's self-preservation instincts kicked in, forcing her up, up and away to ride the wind. She didn't know what part of town she'd been led to, but if she rose high enough, she would be able to pinpoint the city she knew. She could go home.

Comfortable and reliable, as a home should be. The thought of being in her room, surrounded by everything meaningful in her life up to that point… did nothing.

She was halfway there when she began seeing red.

* * *

"You can tell me, Bubbles. I won't judge you." The redhead said. "Whatever he did to you was not your fault."

"... what?" Bubbles hissed.

"It's not your fault." Blossom repeated. "He won't be able to hurt you anymore when -"

"He would never hurt me!" Bubbles rounded on her sister and nearly screamed. "He would never do anything to hurt me!"

"Sometimes, guys can seem charming. But there all kinds of ways to abuse good people, Bubbles." Blossom countered. "They're good at confusing others, making them feel like it's their choice to be hurt."

"What are you talking about?"

Bubbles groaned, closing her eyes while trying to block out everything around her. "I'm not being abused! I'm not a victim of anything!"

"Calm down." Blossom reached out to her. "Bubbles, listen to me. Think about what I'm saying."

Slapping her hands on either side of her head, as though a truly painful migraine had begun, Bubbles screeched. "I want to be with him!"

"I might even love him!" Bubbles cried. Her eyes widened not a second after, and she slapped a hand over her mouth as the true weight of her words sunk in.

* * *

(4)

Smoke billowed from barely parted lips and into the night air. Tokyo was still abuzz, even after settling into evening.

Noodle sat like a gargoyle on the rooftop, keen green eyes raking over the city lights in the distance and the enlarged moon hanging above it. She felt anxiety creeping beneath her skin and into her muscles, making her groan when the feeling became a white hot burning sensation.

Hell had attempted to drag her down into its depths, and she'd figured after contemplating the trauma endured there that it would take somebody not all that human to find a way out. By the end of the day, that should've been something to celebrate. Because she was alive and above ground. Free again.

But these little pains and premonitions that stole into her mind and body were a bitch.

It wasn't like she automatically knew why the clouds and the stars in the sky began to blur into parallaxes.

Of all people, Murdoc was the one who comforted her when she couldn't stop choking on air afterwards. He was a warm body to curl up to then, treating her like the 10-year-old she'd been when she'd first imprinted on him from outside a Fedex crate.

"This shit happens ta me all the time. It's gonna keep trying to tear you down, love." The man squeezed her shoulders. "We won't let it get that far. Just gotta keep playing and drowning it out."

She'd find out not too long after that she'd succumbed to a sudden bout of tritanopia. The discovery would make her heart seize in her chest and her throat run dry.

* * *

(14)

Former leader to former leader.

Blossom walked with all the confidence of a world leader, but Ace's shrewd gaze caught onto the conflict she was carrying within quite quickly. The russet pantsuit made her tan skin and carrot-red hair blend together, subtle lipstick and shades of brown - everything matching perfectly; but there was a hint of garish, uncomplimentary pink along the crown of her head.

A hot pink headband that looked like it suited her childhood-self better rested there, seemingly insignificant but Ace kept it in mind. He'd learned to gauge weaknesses in other people when first living on the streets. A decade or two didn't change that fact.

Still, a part of him was dismissive. The Powerpuff Girls had always been three different kinds of awful back in the day. Perhaps this overly-confident woman approaching him couldn't shake that off. She'd been trying to leave the past behind for normalcy, but Blossom clearly missed her innocence.

Nothing like Bubbles, who wore ruffled blouses and glittery shorts and flowery bras, walking up to him with baby blue strappy sandals on her little feet.

His arms flew up and akimbo in exasperation when she stopped on her heels. Ace hadn't even been able to wipe the oil slicked on his hands and drawl a greeting to her before she began interrogating him.

"Long time no see to you too, Red." Ace muttered. He felt a bit of pride when just the sound of his voice made her squirm.

"This isn't a social call, Copular." Blossom ground out. "I don't want to play nice. You just need to listen and listen well. Bubbles is off-limits. Stay away from her, or you'll wish you were dead."

Ace did nothing but scoff at her, partly-incredulous over her nerve.

"Get it? Got it? Good."

She turned her back to him and began walking away. It wasn't in her to fly, though she felt a gnawing desperation in the pit of her stomach to get the hell away from her former foe.

"Bubbles is an adult." His nasally voice sounded behind her and Blossom involuntarily stopped.

She turned around slowly, and saw Ace standing tall while wiping grease and engine oil from his hands. He was staring with a frown on his face, shoulders back and red eyes rather intense. It gave Blossom the creeps to see how such small changes could make him look like an entirely different person.

"So?" She asked.

"So's you can't make the rules like you're a team still." He stated. "Bubbles is an adult. She makes her own decisions and it's none of your business no more."

It was Blossom's turn to scoff incredulously. "It's not being an adult when someone is taking advantage of you!"

Ace bared his teeth in defiance, a touch of offense glittering in his eyes. "Think whatever you want, it ain't gonna change a thing. Ain't nothin' you can do about it"

He took a step forward, and another, and another, until his frame took up 80% of Blossom's field of vision. If it were tangible, the power of his anger could've knocked Blossom back as forcefully as a tidal wave.

"She's mine now."

* * *

(16)

"Can't yousss jusssssst knock?" Snake moaned, running a hand over his sallow faces as the dingy room he called home glowed green. "For once?"

The neon eyes glaring at him from the corner of the room narrowed dangerously.

Snake blinked, suddenly coming to terms with the fact that he was staring at one outrageously furious Powerpuff girl.

Buttercup walked into the lamplight, hands shaking with the note she'd discovered only two hours ago. "What the fuck is this?"

* * *

(15)

Bubbles let the rain pour down on her, as though to conceal her tears. It didn't quite work, as she couldn't help but sob rather painfully while waiting for the door to open.

When it did, Bubbles was rendered silent. She stared at Ace's blood-soaked face and weak smile for a long and terrible moment before walking inside and letting him collapse against her.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We've all got secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of more filler. Kind of.

(4)

“I’ll give ya a quarter if ya say it.” He popped another gummy bear in his mouth.    
  
“A quarter?” She’d been affronted. “That’s dumb.”

 

“It’s dumb that yous can’t even say one of them words and you’re an adult.” His glasses shone in the sunlight. They were leaning against the wall of his garage in the hot sun, with Bubbles having taken full advantage of his break time as per usual now. 

 

“Or so ya say, kiddo.” His sideways glance made Bubbles fume inside. She wasn’t good at hiding how it got under her skin. 

 

“I’m not a kid!” 

He was leaning toward her, back still up against the wall. Bubbles shrunk against it, unable to stop the intimidation that began to crawl in her chest. His gaze was hard to take. It did strange things to her, like make the sensation of somersaults in her tummy. 

 

Bubbles bit the inside of her cheek, brows lowering. “If I’m a kid then you’re a… you’re a... ”

 

“You’re a  _ dick _ .” She mumbled.  

 

Ace stopped nearing her long enough to blink. Bubbles began to worry if she’d broken him somehow because of how long he stared, but was startled from her train of thought by his laughter. 

 

The sound wasn’t beautiful or anything. She’d heard Ace and his gang laughing many times in the distant past, always over some trickery or cruelty or scam they’d come up with. Yet, she blushed at the genuine amusement that wrinkled his brow and made his eyes crumple shut. 

It made her heart thud as though something new and exciting had gotten her blood pumping.

 

* * *

(16)

 

“I called him. Sayssss he’sss comin’, but it’ssss gonna take a while.” 

 

Snake sighed, wiping a hand down his pale face. Buttercup sat at one end of his dining table, staring a hole (thank God not literally) into the cheap wood while the note she’d found remained crumpled next to her.

 

“If only we’d known that all we had to do to get Ace to stop being depressed was to have him bang my sister.” Her tone was enraged and drenched in sarcasm. “And vice versa.” 

 

Snake cringed. “Youssss don’t know if… they… uhhh...”

 

Buttercup’s glare snapped to him. “Don’t even try. I could tell it was happening almost instantly. She’s been glowing for months.” 

 

Her companion gulped, looking a little more than weirded out at what he was hearing. Wrapping his mind around Ace being shoehorned into their lives again was difficult enough. But to hear about him shacking up with a Powerpuff Girl? It was making his head spin.

 

(Although, if Snake ever had the thought in mind, he would’ve guessed that the troublemaker would be Buttercup).

 

Years had passed before the Gangreen Gang was able to heal after his abandonment. It had required time, patience and brains they didn’t have. Things had gotten to a state of being completely out of control Bad before help came along. 

But then following the direction of a fiery thirteen-year old superhero made attaining those relatively easy.

 

… Maybe this new development wasn’t so strange… 

 

“Ssosssss you knew that she and Ace were -”  _ Jesus,  _ though _. _ He  _ really _ didn’t want to talk about his former leader’s sex life. 

 

“I didn’t know it was him!” Buttercup growled. “I doubt she would’ve told me if I asked. It could’ve been anybody - some twerp from high school, maybe.” 

 

Snake worried for the coffee mug in her hands. He’d pilfered several over time, and had seen more than a few suffer for Buttercup’s anger. 

 

“Blossom is the type to be up her ass about it. Not me.”

 

For a moment she was staring into space, cup still barely holding on from the pressure of her clutch. 

 

Her eyes softened, weariness overshadowing her features. “I didn’t need to ask. She was just… being herself again, and that was all we could ask for. You know?”

 

* * *

(16)

“God! I can’t believe Bubbles would run away! With a guy! I always expected it to be Buttercup, not her.”   
  
            Mojo gaped. “Huh? Sweet little Bubbles has run away with a boy? A boy who you have had almost no knowledge of existing until just recently?”   
  
Blossom glared. “He’s not a ‘boy’. He’s a criminal - former or not, and he’s taking advantage of my sister.”   
  
The monkey scratched his head.   
  
“Who is this criminal of which we speak?”   
  
“She thinks she loves him.”   
  
“Who?” He asked, exasperated.    
  
“Ugh. Ace.” She spoke his name as though it were a slur.   
  
“Ace? The green teenager that used to live at the City Dump, Ace? The former leader of those hoodlums that called themselves the Gangreen Gang? Their leader who disappeared more than a decade before now? Bubbles is in love with Ace? That Ace?”   
  
Blossom grit her teeth, eyes shutting painfully. “Yes. That Ace.”    
  
Mojo Jojo stared ahead blankly, blinking in succession as he presumably tried to process this information. It looked as if he were being forced to digest the meaning of every word in the dictionary. But soon, his eyes snapped to Blossom’s and she was graced with his mildly appalled and slightly disgusted face.    
  
“He is too old for her.” Mojo said indignantly.   
  
“I know!” Blossom cried. “But that’s not even the worst part! He’s the leader of a gang! He used to beat us up as kids!”   
  
“Well, to be fair - which is to say, to bring equality into the argument, solely for the sake of our authenticity in our debate - you three used to beat him up quite a lot.”    
  
“That’s not the poi - there is no debate!” Blossom simmered. "We need to knock some sense into them!" 

"...We...?" 

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this once on here, but was too chicken to keep going. I'm trying again, and stating now that this is mostly an odd project for me to practice writing smut and family dynamics. Idk why the ppg became my focus, but here we are.


End file.
